HUNGER KISSES
by marthasville
Summary: Peeta is away with the guys, after Katniss rejects his proposal. She is granted a reprieve to see her mother. A friend from the arena visits encouraging her to take on the new Panem. She may conquer it without Peeta. An obscure character, a prominent figure from Panem who played a major role in the rebellion is revealed and linked to someone close to her past. Action: Catfight
1. Drowning

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games and do not wish to make any sort of profit from this story. I only wish that it is enjoyed by other fans of the book who seek plausible outcomes for the post story closure to Peeta and Katniss' relationship. 1) How Gale re-enters her life, 2) who her mother's confessions, 3) Peeta's fate, 4) and an obscure character, a prominent figure from Panem who played a major role in the rebellion is revealed. _

Drowning

I swim up to the surface, with breath held, every muscle in my body aching, burning from exertion. The light is a blur obscured by my liquid surrounding. My lungs are about to burst from the pressure, so I exhale to release what air is left within me, and I let out a scream that remains muffled as I ascend towards the sun's undulating rays. I break to the surface and gasp for air only to find that I can't suck any back into my lungs. Then suddenly darkness again overshadows me. I fight, but it has my arms. I swing my head violently from side to side to try and break free. In the darkness, I feel my end will finally be in a watery grave. Soon, I am immobilized by something I can't see holding my head still, as I sink down into the abyss. I open my mouth to take in the water to quicken my fate, but it is met instead with such a tender sensation—soft yet warm and tastes of, it tastes of chocolate? It breathed into me, and breathed into me again with such a heat, I am instantly awakened from the nightmare I was sure was going to take me this time.

I find Peeta's lips on mine, and the only water that I was immersed in were profuse trails of tears that dripped into my hair every time I heaved. My very own sobbing became audible to me, my hands tightly clutching Peeta's started to ache, yet his kisses worked wonders on my wrought muscles.

Soon I was back in our room, the night quiet, and rescued once again the very same way I rescued him the day we changed the course of Panem in the tunnel, the day I wished never had to happen the way it did. Although a new order would emerge, my very reason for my fight for survival all those years, the reason I became a victor was blown apart into nothing before my eyes. She meant everything to me, my little sister, and now I am haunted by a deep vacuous hole which Peeta constantly has to haul me out of. I have found in Peeta to be the only one who can bring the promise of a new future with such compelling proof in his positive outlook on life despite so much loss that I grasp it under the wings of his tender embrace. It's ironic that I never really took flight as the Mockingjay. With him, holding him, I feel I can see the world from above the ground and be in a place where nothing can touch me. I fear ever letting go. So I do what I have to do to feel alive again

I am immediately stirred by his sodden kisses, dousing me, hoping this time it will smother smoke-clouded memories of the nightmare. Peeta knows it's a gamble with the outcome of his intimate efforts, but welcomes whatever my response may be. I may be lulled back into calmness and he'll simply keep me in a tight cuddle. But tonight the ravenous hunger has reemerged as I meet his kisses with urgent cravings to taste his salty, sweetness, and the fading flavor of the last beverage he consumed tonight—his favorite cup of hot chocolate to close a rainy evening—to grease my lips with, to acquire the flavor of his palette with mine. He obliges me allowing me to feast on him in the dark. I take in his musky smell, on my lips and scarred skin.

When his muscles begin to grow taut from having to restrain his responding desire to subdue me, it only enflames my insides, and I go into a frenzy. I have him, and he has me in a way that keeps me yearning with the assured expectation of fulfillment then ultimately, insatiability. In the throes of passion, it's only he and I who exist in this twilight world, connecting in all levels and realms of consciousness.

The sun rises and lights up our room. We're still awake from building up our energy reserves from the arduous activity that took us into the wee morning, hours earlier. Just as I imagined, I now get to bask in his manly aroma getting a whiff of his blond hair that is still damp from perspiration.

"You want to talk about your dream?" he asked in the safety of the light that surrounds us and which has illuminated the pensive expression on my face.

"I was drowning again," I say as I'm swept with tides of conflicting emotions brought on by memories of the last arena, my secret pond, and Johanna. Then I realized something.

"What is it?" Peeta asked noticing my revelation in my gray eyes.

"Do you think the reason I'm afraid—in my nightmares, I mean—is because I still have loved ones to lose?" I ask, recalling what Johanna said to me in the arena.

He sighs and turns on his back looking up at our ceiling. I know he's thinking of his family.

Then he answers, "I think what's important is that we don't think about what could be lost, but focus on every moment of giving all you can to the ones you love."

He turns to look at me and continues, as he caresses my chin, "If I allow myself a second to think about losing you, life wouldn't have purpose or meaning anymore. You're a constant fixture in my mind, and you're here in the flesh. So why should I waste my time worrying when I can enjoy it." We chuckle at the literal context, and entwine our legs together under the sheets.

"You're not afraid Katniss. You're aware. Too aware, and that's from being a skilled hunter. But we're not being hunted anymore, no more Hunger Games or Peacekeepers where we have to look over our backs at the slightest misstep. The hunter in you has this built-in instinct to anticipate any type of movement, detect warning signs. All that training keeps you always guarded. Maybe you need to be convinced that you need to let your guard down and allow someone to protect you, to be the one watching out for you."

"I guess then, I'm not ready to give that up," I flatly reply, and find myself suddenly exhausted.

I shut my eyes to politely gesture that we're not going over this again. Peeta has hinted at marriage numerous times before, since things between us developed into a physically intimate one. I wish I could see it his way, that marriage will make everything brighter in our lives, but all I ever end up feeling is that deep despair of having lost a part of me just by truly calling it my own. I swore I would never marry because I remember what it did to my mother, how that true love shared between my father and her was no longer there. It was as if thieves came one night and stole from our house, taking off with her soul. I hated her because I couldn't understand why she gave up on us, until Prim died. I didn't handle her loss any different than she did my father's. I had laid in bed, my grafted wounds peeling off me, starved, unbathed for months. If Peeta became my husband and died, I wouldn't want to know what the world would be like without him, I'd follow him, just like he would follow me when he didn't hesitate in our attempt to defy President Snow with the nightlock at our first Hunger Games.

In a flash, he gets off the bed, showers and slams the bedroom door shut on his way out. When he returns, it's late in the evening and that's when he drops it on me, but I try my hardest not to react the way my insides did. Screaming in agony.

He says, "I finally agreed to go with Thom."

He waits for me to say something, but I just nod and go back to playing with the cold food on my plate, while my mind races for the right things to say. And of course in then end, as always, I don't.

"We leave on Saturday," he says, putting chunks of meat in his mouth to keep him from blowing up. The room feels stuffy.

"You are a victor, I'm sure you'd make them feel safer being out there with them in the wilderness," I say.

Look, Katniss, if you don't want me to go I'll tell them it isn't a good idea right now."

"No. Go. It's fine. I'll be fine. I think you need this," I say and I try to be reassuring by reaching out for his hand, but I can't look him in the eye without bursting into tears. I try to convince myself that he does needs this. They're all young men who never really had a childhood, or the opportunity to feel the freeness in the forest like my father, Gale and I did.

"You're not hurt that they're doing this without you guiding them?" Peeta asks.

"I'm worried, but I saw the technology they were given to track wild animals and a sound device that keeps them away. My bow and arrow is completely useless compared to all the hunting gear that's been developed, thanks to the inspiration of Hunger Games weaponry." I say, finding some dark humor to lighten to mood.

We make love again that night, and when I think he has fallen asleep, I allow myself to feel how much I might miss him. I instantly feel a pang of longing, and that's when the floodgates of my tears break open. I try to hold it in but every time I inhale my runny nose gives me away. Peeta is awakened , and I shut my eyes tightly to block him out, hoping he'll just cradle me back to sleep, but he won't stop shaking me until I respond. I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck tightly so he doesn't see my face.

"You're missing her again?" he asks, into my hair. I simply nod. If I tell him the truth, he definitely will change his plans to go with the boys, and I wouldn't be happy being the reason he misses out on so much of the joy and happiness he deserves. He already feels a million miles away from me.


	2. The Forest

2 The Forest

I am fortunate to enter this enormous sanctuary where I can be free to release my pain. It is usually a place where I can freely live by my rules, and play my games. If I win, I'll have something to take home, but if I lose no one will know. And today, no one will know except the forest that I am losing it. In the three days since Peeta announced that he'll be making that Wilderness hike with the young men of District 12, I've been an emotional disaster. I hide it from Peeta, but I risk exposing it the longer we're in bed together.

So, I wake up earlier to make my usual trek to the forest. For three days straight, all I want to do is find a nice smooth rock at the edge of a creek to rest my head on and just cry. I wonder what has come over me, and I've come to realize that I really am what Dr. Aurelias calls my current case, "insecure." I call myself a silly ninny, convincing myself that I will not trouble Peeta about this. It's an issue Dr. Aurelias says has a cure. He said to learn to let things go. I know what we have isn't a normal relationship, not if Peeta's mostly the sane one, and I'm the one with all the issues. There's still a long road to recovery for both of us, but my heart has involuntarily commanded every part of my bone and muscle to take up the long haul. While using my shirt to wipe my slick face, I make a mental note to call Dr. Aurelias when Peeta's gone. I get up to start hunting when not too long after, I see it on the ground. A dandelion.

I smile, from the memory of the next day when I wanted to thank Peeta for the bread, but we both bashfully looked away. He ignored me, or so it seemed. But he would always remind me about that very day when we first made brief eye contact was also the day I first broke his heart.

He had accepted a girl's advances and kissed her to ease the sting of rejection, and the lashes caused by his mother. He admitted though, that it didn't. He waited weeks for me to say something to him, but he noticed a dramatic change in me unfolding.

He told me my once frail, vulnerable stature transformed overnight into this rugged, stern, overly serious persona. He lost the nerve to utter a word to me, fearing the bread gesture might have fueled a hidden rage in me. Peeta, speechless? Who would've thought? Eventually word got around about me quickly, at his family dinner table, where they feasted on minced squirrel meat. And many other dinner tables not used since the untimely death of my father were bringing families a meager sustenance again to make it through another night. I had gained a small-scale status of celebrity in the district which Peeta believed slated me as one of the girls way out of his league.

Now both Peeta and I are household names in every district and it all started with this one dandelion. I continue to stare at it and then I crane my head back to look up at the towering trees above me. I felt my father's presence surrounding me in a nice breeze brought on by a cloudy day. The trees swayed and the birds sang, and once again Peeta's words come back to me.

"_I'm too aware."_

Yes, I am, and I know even though there is not a single human soul out here with me, I am not alone. The dandelion, trees and wind speak to me, teaching me to survive, having led me to success in my former mission to help stave off starvation for the people of District 12. No longer do they need to depend on me though now that some livestock are being raised by several townspeople. Now that they are able to venture out past the perimeter, where the electrified fence once stood, many people took the opportunity to build houses close to the lakes, and cleared land to begin farming.

My mood had changed drastically from despair to delight as I pull several of the dandelion leaves and flowers to take home with me. I arrange the five dandelion flowers in a small vase as I prepare a meal for Peeta and I.

I didn't hear the door open or knew that he had been spying on me for several minutes, probably because the song that I was humming was amplified by the enormous ceiling in Peeta's newly renovated kitchen. When I turned around he was leaning against the frame of the back door. I almost dropped the plate of roasted chicken with rosemary, garnished with dandelion leaves, and pine nuts—the few ingredients I picked on the way home from the forest.

Peeta! I sighed. "Don't do that! You scared me!"

"I didn't want to interrupt. The last time I heard you sing, like that, was the first day of school. Real or not real?"

I went from blushing to burning with embarrassment having to answer that question.

"Real."

I wonder if he remembers the story he told all of Panem about our first childhood encounter.

He says, "My Dad told me the birds would all fall silent when they'd hear your Dad sing, and I listened that day, but it wasn't the birds that fell silent, it was the entire class."

He's leaning over, the dish still in my hand, as he kisses me.

When he pulls away, he tells me, "You were my first crush."

After our wordless moment staring into each other's eyes brimming with deep gratitude, Peeta breaks the silence by taking the dish off my hands and setting it on the table saying, "Packing for an extended camping trip sure does work up an appetite."

I retire to bed, happier than I've ever remembered being. Peeta is waiting for me and when I settle in he leans over smiling at me. The smile looks innocent, not the mischievous one he makes right before he makes a move on me. So I ask, quickly.

"What?"

"You didn't finish singing," he says, putting his hand on my thigh, sliding it upward.

"Okay!" I shout. What do you want me to sing?"

"Anything," he says snuggling beside me, closing his eyes.

"You want me to sing you to sleep?" I ask, indignant, and when he opens his eyes, they look straight up at me, so childlike, pleading, and so adorable. I couldn't refuse those baby blues.

I begin, and he quickly stops squirming spooned up against me.

_Are you, are you  
Coming to the tree  
Where they strung up a man they say murdered three.  
_

Thoughts run through my mind as I sing. My mother forbade my father from singing this song to us, because of its dark and violent tone, but she didn't understand it that way my father and I did. The forest is telling a story, and if we listen carefully we can learn from it…

_Strange things did happen here_

That death won't separate true love, but it's even better to cheat it. Like what Peeta and I did with the nightlock berries.

_No stranger would it be  
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.  
_

…not to look at the hopelessness, but to search for a way out of it.

_Are you, are you  
Coming to the tree  
Where the dead man called out for his love to flee.  
Strange things did happen here mklp  
No stranger would it be  
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree._

__We almost shared the same fate of these two doomed lovers at the hanging tree, but in the arena, the forest spoke up and objected loudly, in the voice of Seneca Crane.

_Are you, are you  
Coming to the tree  
Where I told you to run so we'd both be free.  
Strange things did happen here  
No stranger would it be  
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree._

This songs remind me now that both Peeta and I, together, conquered all the hanging trees in the clock arena, not one of them remains standing.

_Are you, are you  
Coming to the tree  
Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me.  
Strange things did happen here  
No stranger would it be  
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree._

I lose myself to the rhythm as I end the song. Peeta's even breathing lets me know that he has fallen asleep. I found another way to be happy, and I am starting to believe that I'll be able to bare our temporary separation. I spent the day focusing on making a dinner special, but at this moment it hit me hard in the gut, realizing that it would be our last night together. Tomorrow the boys leave District 12 for 30 days.

Please review. Let me know what you liked and didn't. Thank you.


	3. Parting Gift

3 Parting Gift

I sat out on the porch the next morning waiting, but listening as Peeta stammered around inside taking one last look, for the third time, to make sure he didn't leave anything behind. He was all packed up and ready to go, but had forgotten one small thing, then another. I stayed outside the house the third time, hoping he'd forget to leave. As he stepped out he gave one long look into the house.

"Maybe, what you're forgetting is out here," I say, intending to sound humorous, but it actually came out accusing. He smiles, closes the door, and walks over to me.

"You promise not to follow behind us," Peeta says jokingly. I can see it in his playful eyes. As soon as he reads mine, he discovers he's dead on target with my intentions, the tone changes. "Katniss."

I look away, and he retreats, edging closer to the edge of the porch. I look back, and he has his head down, waiting for me to follow him. I get up and decide I don't want our departure to end on this note.

He holds my hand, as we both take a step down the stairs, and he says,

"You know you're not allowed to go beyond District 12."

The gravel crunched underneath us as we made our way towards the Town. He wasn't going to leave for another hour, but he wanted to do something in there before he left. Peeta always checked in on the people there. He is fond of the place, which is another thing I envy about him. His way of recovering from the devastation is being where it once was. Instead of seeing ghosts, he sees them shinier and more vibrant going about their mundane routines. What the tracker jacker venom succeeded in doing was distort any connection he had with me, and what it did at the same time was train him to look back into the past, even going into unaffected regions of his memory of the Town. Although most of the Town people were killed in the blast, his recovery shortly after his return came quicker every time he walked around there and by helping rebuild some of the shops.

"I would be able to track you, even with an hour's head start," I say, ending the awkward silence.

"I don't doubt it. But I don't want to risk adding more time to that indefinite restriction on you if I, and you, most of all, can help it. Many of our close friends, victors and rebels are coming into positions of power, and they've made attempts to bring it to the table. Hey, I want to take you places. I want to see the new Panem with you."

I shrug, and ask, "Do you think, you'd be going on this nature hike if I said yes?"

"But you didn't say yes, Katniss. And I thought by now, you learned that you're allowed in our relationship to be honest with yourself. You have your reasons. And I'm not going to have this discussion right now, because if you're thinking about changing your answer, we both know it's the circumstance that's forcing you to," Peeta reasoned all too eloquently.

It infuriates me when he brings to light that even if I may be too aware of my surroundings, he's too aware of my emotions. Knowing that should be comforting, but not when you're used to moving stealthily and being undetectable. I can't get anything by him, and that's why he should know that I don't want him to go. Yet my pride won't allow that silly school girl nonsense to make a peep.

A basket filled with bread is all he takes from his bakery, and we're again quickly on our way to another shop, a fabric store. The door is unlocked but it's too early to be opened, so we walk towards the back room, towards the sound of people talking and moving things around. We enter and the group is there along with their fiancées, or parents and siblings. It must be a small send-off party, as Peeta places the basket of bread on a table with a small spread of cheeses and fruit preserves.

Just the sight of Peeta gearing up next to the other men was all I could stand. I had this nagging ominous, foreboding vibe in me, not much that it did remind me of the prepping before the Games, but because he is so trusting. Again, Dr. Aurelias' voice rang in my head.

"Insecure"

I make my way to the food and a middle-aged woman steps in front of me holding a mug. I thank her and I immediately feel it's warmth as I wrap it with my trembling hands. Soon other women surround us offering me breakfast goodies. I take it, not minding since stuffing my mouth gives me an excuse to not engage in conversation. I'll probably be the first one to voice how this whole thing is a bad idea, and before you know it there'd be a riot in our hands.

I am acquainted with the women who are a few years older than me. Sandy, from District 13 is Thom's girl. You can tell she was raised there by her militant comportment, and her natural reflex to glance at her wrist before moving. Most of the boys are about our age, a few are involved but not seriously, and some have chosen to remain focused on the rebuilding effort before even considering courting, perhaps still having the responsibility to care for surviving siblings.

As for Peeta, he came clean a year ago in an interview about us, to dismantle the media's constant sensationalizing of our relationship. It worked whenever they needed to revive the ratings, but Peeta felt it might damage the sincere hope we inspired in the districts.

He said, "If we are all to start on making changes for the better, then I'd like to start it by telling the people the truth. Katniss and I never married, she was never pregnant. I was desperate to keep her out of the Games. So I did what the Games taught me to do—survive, sacrifice or be killed."

They felt he was making a political statement and pursued the notion that he might run for office. He quickly owned up to his personal issues regarding his continuous road to recovery, and preferred to live a quiet life out of the spotlight for a change.

The last question in that interview he answered them saying, "Yes, we are recovering together day by day."

We all made our way out of the store and headed towards the train station. The boys needed to pick up some supplies that were delivered early In the morning.

"I know you keep promises, Katniss," Peeta says, "and I want to make sure we don't take steps back with our relationship. Promise me when you have nightmares, you repeat who you are, and when you're sad, pick a dandelion. Do you promise to be nice to people?"

"I'll try," I say, but I was already planning on living in seclusion until he returned.

"Well, you're going to have to do better than that," he says, holding my hand, walking me further away from the group.

We stop by a train car and he continues, "Because if you're nice, I promise you won't be lonely for a second."

He turns to the train and the door opens. Out walks a woman, who looks strikingly plain but naturally stunning.. At first I can't place where I've seen her, but it's the black hair that tells me, despite that it has grown back into voluminous waves. Johanna Mason has gained a healthy amount of weight that gives her a mature, coming of age look. She still prefers wearing that scowl on her face.

Peeta drops his gear and goes up to hug her, catching her off guard, but she surprisingly softens after human contact had reactivated her emotions. I stand back amazed at her transformation, but also from wondering what on Earth is she doing here at 12?

"Johanna agreed to pay you a visit, until we return," Peeta says, ushering Johanna closer to me.

We stare at each other for a while. She's looking up and down at me, then the next second we grab each other, hugging tightly.

I push away, bracing her fuller arms and say, "Look at you!"

I pull her back in, and this time, she yanks me, shaking me replying, "No, look at you! That last I saw you, you looked like death, smelled it too, and now you look like someone's been taking good care of you."

"Still couldn't find those manners, huh?" I say.

I feel a blush coming on, and I turn to Peeta, who's just as red. I walk over to him, and give him a nice full farewell kiss. When I pull away, I whisper, "I'm already starving for your kisses."

"I'll make it up for it when I get back, for everyday I miss. But I'm sure you'll have your hands full with each other," Peeta said and turned to go catch up with the boys.

I let out a sigh, when I turned back to look at Johanna. After having no defenses put up upon our initial encounter, it somehow finds its way in full force as we are both left on the train platform to our own devices.

"So," Johanna smugly says, "what can we possibly do for fun in this dingy old town?"

"I could take you to the lake." I say with a sneer.

She shoots me a dirty look, but doesn't say anything, probably assuming I don't know about her fear of water.

"Where's your bags? You didn't bring a bag?" I asked before exiting the station.

"I was thinking about borrowing your wardrobe." Johanna simply replied.

"For thirty days?" I ask, realizing that this will be the conversation style, for possibly thirty days.

"Don't worry, I won't get it wet, if that's what you're afraid of."

"You know something, Johanna? You can borrow any dress you'd like. In fact you can try my mockingjay suit.

"You know how long suits stay on me?" Johanna responds and they both laughed from the memory of her tacky tree outifit.

"Ahh. That explains the lack of a travel bag," I say and wonder how long will it be before we stop the verbal volleyball and start physically attacking each other.

_To be continued…please review. The next plot is about girls just wanna have fun the Victor way._


	4. Planting The Seed

_I revised this chapter by adding an important part about Peeta's first marriage proposal and changed the title. Johanna and Katniss do some girl time, the way damaged Victors would. Some of our favorite HG characters are in this chapter. Check out where they're doing, now._

4 Planting The Seed

It sounded like a good idea when we were all caught up walking in the woods, appreciating the beauty of how trees intermingled with jagged rocks, and of how it would be a nice surprise for Peeta when he returned, but that was before we both were literally knee deep in dirt.

I can't believe I let Johanna convince me into pulling out this young tree from its roots, which took almost an hour to do, and an eternity to drag, traversing down and up ravines, then gullies, and between those intermingled trees and rocks which I no longer had good words to say about.

I spent a large portion of my life in the forest, learned about medicinal plants, but I had no idea how much more I didn't know about the trees. She pointed to a shrub noticeably filled with deep purple flower clusters.

"The Capitol went crazy for these trees using it to line their yards, fences and in groupings as stunning showpieces on the sidewalks in front of the President's Palace. They grow horizontally and the color of the flowers, the Capitol florists called it royal purple. They engineered it to remain in bloom for up to 70 days. She won't get taller than about 20 feet. Must've made its way here with the mockingjays. You can't find it anywhere else."

"We're only beginning to find out that there's more out there, past our borders. We've never been allowed to venture out until recently," I say.

"There has to be a few here. Maybe we should pull this one out and plant it in the middle of the town. Add some color. I'd go crazy in a day living here in coal country."

"We definitely wouldn't want that," I say, chuckling.

"They really weren't kidding about how dusty the place is," Johanna commented.

I was almost offended, until I thought about my constantly tethering hold on sanity. She could be right since I book it to the woods every morning, surrounding myself on all this lush flora and fauna, dreading to have to return to dreary coal-dusted dirt paths that lead me back home.

But if this is what Peeta means by being nice then I guess I should at least fulfill her wish to beautify and keep our District safe from a sudden increasing presence of mentally unstable victors.

"Let's do it," I say, and she raises an eyebrow. I continue, "Hey, what else is there to do? I gave you a tour of my hunting grounds, made you shoot arrows into a tree, now it's your turn. Show me your agricultural skills by leaving a royal purple mark in this District."

"Okay, let's get started," she replies, stepping up to my challenge. We immediately get to work. She grabs one arrow and starts digging and I do the same with one of my arrowheads. I figure since we're getting down and dirty, I might as well ask what's been bugging my mind from the conversation we had last night.

"So who is the lucky guy?" I ask.

She pauses, then drives her arrow harder into the ground, "What gives you the idea there is a lucky guy?"

"What you said, last night. You had reason to be fearful again since your therapy opened doors that were once shut," I recalled her saying.

"Wow!" You think my fears have something to do about a guy? You're really good, but it's nothing like that. No, nothing at all like that." She tried to convince me but it sounded more like she wanted to convince herself.

"This whole new look, did he have something to do with it?"

"I think it's what caught his attention, and many others too." She was silent for a while, scraping, not digging the ground as she fondly relished on a flashback.

Then she turned it on me, grunting while asking, as we both started pulling the roots exposed from our digging, "What about your guy? Is it serious?"

"It's deep," I grunt back.

"I could tell by that kiss you gave him," she says, pulling out two roots as she stressed the words starting from _kiss_.

"I'm talking about this root. I'm going to have to cut it," I reply, pulling out my dagger to start sawing.

"You going to marry Peeta?" Johanna asks, twisting and pulling out the roots with her bear hands.

I just shoot her a look, and with one long powerful heave I manage to yank free the remaining roots. I fall to the ground, waiting for the burn in my arm muscles to subside, then answer.

"There's no rush to settle down right away. We have to make sure things are right with each other, you know, first."

Johanna laughs, "I totally agree with your thinking, Katniss. You're keeping your options open. That's smart. You were quite the catch back at 13. I wish I wasn't so drugged out back then, but weren't you in some love triangle? Whatever happened to that tall soldier who visited you in the hospital?"

"Back when we were sharing tubes?" I say sarcastically, "Gale…"

She interrupts, "Gale Hawthorne? The Senator?" She giggles, then falls beside me curling into a ball of laughter. After a while she starts choking, gasping for air. I've been on eggshells since she arrived and now I'm really growing more leery with the topics of our conversations, and the spins and turns they take at whiplash speed.

She manages to ask, in between giggles, "Who would've known he was that tall lanky boy. Seen him lately?"

"No," I say furrowing my brows at her, then I look away focusing on a distant rock in the horizon, where Gale and I used to sit skinning our kills.

"He's developed a sophisticated sense of style since then, that's hard to miss. They must've given him a prep team back in District 2. Word around the districts is that he may be the next President in the not so distant future."

I get up to start dragging the tree, and after a few seconds she's beside me, holding one of the branches. "Too bad you can't leave district 12, then you wouldn't have to settle for what's here."

I didn't know what to say to that. I didn't know whether to defend Peeta's honor once again, or come to my defense, but at that moment my disagreeing would open the door to what Johanna was making me walk into—a full blown cat fight. Whatever her unresolved issues are with me, I promised Peeta I would be nice, and kept my mouth shut.

While Johanna, rambles, I politely remain quiet, trying to fill my mind with other thoughts than taking this shrub and swinging its royal purple flowers against her face. Thankfully the flowers distracted me, sending me off into the past to figure out why they gave off a familiar fragrance. It was around the recent past, I have an image of a scene. The first time Peeta attempted to propose marriage to me. He was playing it safe in a moment of weakness for both of us, testing the waters, so to speak.

It was a beautiful late morning. We had come so close to consummating our intimate relationship, but tremendous self-control on Peeta's part ended it with a gentle kiss to the forehead slipping out of my hold underneath the trees. In the middle of eating our picnic, we went at it again. The noon warmth was getting to us. After a while, he sat up, panting, as I just lay there in the soft patch of grass we found, wondering if I had done anything wrong. I realized my top was undone and he was shirtless. When he turned to me, he asked, "Are you ready for this?"

Calmly and invitingly I reply, "I am."

He leans over and kisses me again, filling his mouth with mine. Breathlessly he says, "Once we do this you're mine," bearing down on my exposed flesh.

"I'm already yours," I whisper.

He pauses and meets my eyes, "You know what I mean?"

I knew, but I didn't want to stop and get all analytical about this, at the height of this passionate moment. But with Peeta, I had to. I could no longer hold out on these long pent up desires he started, and never finished, ever since that night at the beach.

I speak passionately, caressing him with my hands and my words, "I do. Peeta, you know I do. And you know I'm still afraid of the same things. I want this moment as much as you do, to last. Please Peeta. I'm afraid of the idea, but not this moment. I've wanted you, hungered for your kisses. It's not enough anymore. I want all of you."

My memory kicks in, placing the floral scent. It's when I wake up some time later that day under the trees. We're completely undressed, our bodies spent and interwoven, lightly chilled by a gentle breeze that must've rustled up a bunch of fallen matter from the forest floors, sweeping it over us, blanketing our bodies with the warmth of the leaves. And drizzled over us, were these fragrant flowers. Soft as silk against my skin, and a delight to smell after an arduous afternoon frolic.

"Don't tell me the mockingjay is winded," Johanna's voice pierces through the forest in my memory and the current one we're about to leave, as we head for the meadow. "Keep walking in this fashion, and we'll shake all the flowers off this tree and dragging it all this way would be pointless."

I pick up my pace. Yanking the branch from her hold, I say, "No, we wouldn't want the tree to be deflowered in such a careless way, now would we?"

Johanna freezes, I turn and am thrilled to see her rattled. Again, her response is unexpected.

"What do you mean by that?" There's some venom in Johanna's voice.

I drop the tree, and just stare at her. "Nothing!" I shout.

She's pointing her finger at me, repeatedly asking, while coming towards me, "What are you trying to say, huh?"

I don't want to appear to be shrinking back so I step to the side, walking in a circular path to avoid the possibility of her lunging at me, as she has her hands in front of her and shoulders square with mine.

"I'm sorry I can't be pure like you, Everdeen! You're the virgin victor who didn't have her innocence taken away as soon as she was crowned. If it weren't for Peeta's quick thinking, if you were the sole victor, President's Snow would've had his way with you too, selling you, drugging you, using you for his pleasure, then tossing you aside when the next female victor came along. Who told you?"

"No one! Johanna, honestly, no one! I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry, I didn't know." I am utterly ashamed for thinking I can joke so freely with Johanna of all people.

I sit beside her in the middle of the meadow, and it isn't before long that she gets a hold of her emotions.

She laughs and says something ironic, "I think the real victors are the ones who died, because it only happens once to them."

I take her hand and tell her, while pulling her up, "What made us survive this far, Johanna is that we have a lot of fight in us. It burns and seers into our heart, this thing called hope. That something good will be there at the end of our struggle. "

"Yeah, but you don't have to do it alone," she says, her voice almost childlike.

"You don't either. I think you're ready, but you just need that push from the only person you really trust," I confidently say.

As we walk back in silence, I count the many times having Peeta in my life has saved me.

Then Johanna is back to her normal self when she says to me, "Don't think it's you Everdeen. Unlike you, I've been able to travel and make many friends in the Districts."

By the time we reach the Town, we're under the sweltering heat, our clothes are soaked with perspiration, but I'm on a new mission now, and it's to take my anger out on the ground, kicking the shovel hard, to dig a ditch for my guest.

"Watch where you're kicking the dirt, Everdeen!" she yells. She's gathering rocks and forming a circle barrier around us. We prop the shrub up together and after she pats the ground flat, I stand back and take in how one shrub added a sharp contrast to the drab gray color of the Town shops. The refreshing scenery made me forget the recurring hostility I feel for Johanna.

"My nails are ruined!" she exclaimed. "Nothing a nail salon couldn't fix," she figured, then says, "You kidding me?" after watching my eyes roll.

I purposely stay in the tub, long after the bubbles have faded into suds. Suddenly, I'm jolted from my relaxing nap by the front door being slammed shut. I peer out the window and I see Johanna making her way towards the Town, in one of, my and Cinna's, designer dresses.

The better part of me wants to leave it be and relax, but since I couldn't relax wondering what trouble Johanna may be brewing, I decided to check on my restless guest.

Instead, I'm stopped short, at Haymitch's house. The whole place is lit up, and I've never seen so many people gathered there. When I walk in, I'm given a warm reception, but a shocking surprise in not only finding Haymitch's house clean, but decorated in the same ostentatious flair of Capitol parties. I get the weird feeling that I'm the only one not being filled in on plans that have been set since the boys left District 12. Could Peeta be behind this? He's thrown parties before.

Ugh! I see Johanna, lounging on the arm of a couch, men swarming around her. They are not from District 12 judging by the way they're dressed. Each district has distinct apparel styles, and theirs looked like the ones from District 2. One turns and notices me and then I know what is going on. Plutarch gets up and walks towards me.

"Just in time to hear your thoughts," he says and gives me a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.

In a flash, the camera crew whips out their equipment from behind the couch, and begin filming. It's all so unreal, so sudden, and so unacceptable. I'm taken back in the height of the rebellion in full mockingjay costume, disgusted from my exploitation. Everything suddenly seemed arranged and artificial. I back away and step out.

I walked down the porch and onto the path leading to Peeta's house. In the darkness, a voice called out to me. It was Haymitch, sitting in a chair at the corner of his house. No one noticed he was gone.

"Why aren't you at your party?" I ask, staying put on the pathway.

"I can't hear myself think," he says, and takes a sip from a glass of red wine.

"This wasn't your idea, I suppose?" I ask, now edging closer to him.

He looks up at me, turns towards the party, then rises from his lawn chair. "Let's go back in. They come bearing good news."

"I apologize," Plutarch sincerely utters, "you probably didn't receive our message on your phone about us arriving today. It was certainly a pleasant surprise to see Johanna here, looking remarkably well. It just adds to this special moment."

By this time, the anticipation was aggravating me to distraction. Being short I replied, "I won't participate in any more of your theatrical ideas, just tell me without the cameras."

He gently ushers me to the side, and in an appealing tone justifies all the hoopla, "Katniss, I know you are aware that the District 4 Medical Center has finally finished with construction."

"Yes, my mother has been keeping me updated every week," I quickly reply thinking Plutarch and crew wasted the trip here to deliver old news.

"Once all the furniture is moved in, there will be a special opening ceremony," he explains, and succeeded in soothing my apprehension.

"Okay, Plutarch, I will thank District 4 for allowing my mother to establish the Medical Center for natural remedies," I acquiesce, as Plutarch's laughs, first confuses then inflames me. He really can't get over the fact he's no longer the Gamemaker.

He gestures for the crew to start rolling, and says to the camera, ""Katniss, through your winnings as a Victor you have been able to help fulfill your mother's lifelong passion of helping people by helping build the Medical Center for Natural Remedies. This wouldn't be a reality if it wasn't for you, and for this humanitarian endeavor, the new Capitol representatives have granted you a temporary reprieve to leave District 12 to be able to attend the Center's Opening Ceremony in District 4."

The room was silent, the crowd holding their breaths, waiting for me to say something. I was speechless, trying to process Plutarch's words.

"I can go?" Are the words I decide to use? Why didn't they bring Effie to help me properly prepare for these public appearances?

No longer able to hold their excitement, the crowd bursts into cheers and applause. Johanna is instantly beside me, cheek to cheek, back in center stage for the cameras. In all the noise, I'm thinking about Peeta and Finnick. The two most important people who would make the celebration complete. Instead, I'm going back to the Fishing District alone, that is until Johanna again invited herself to accompany me.

I don't want to see it any other way but I refuse to do this without Peeta. I have to find him.

_Please review. In the next chapters, Katniss reunites with her mother and there are more reunions and introductions with people. Stay tuned. The pace and tension will pick up. _


	5. About Visitors and Fish

_**In this chapter we get to see how life in the Districts is slowly evolving. I think of the song "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" while writing this chapter. Katniss is brought to realize that she and Peeta are still young and the world is now open for them to explore. We'll also see if Johanna can "makeover" Katniss and the women of District 12. Please review. It's fuel for my fingers to continue on with the story. Thanks all who have stuck to reading this far. I hope I don't disappoint you.**_

5 About Visitors and Fish

I hear the water rushing past my ears. Then darkness turns into a sea green blue all around me. I'm in the water again, and I'm swimming towards something, and away from something. I can tell, because my heart is already throbbing in a panic. I reach the shore riding a wave in and someone grabs my hand. It's Madge. Her strength is amazing! She drags my limp body out of the water, then I'm lifted off the sand. The sun hits my eyes, making me flinch. I feel strong arms cradling me as I curl under his chest. I'm effortlessly carried through rugged terrain. My eyes are shut but I can tell I'm being taken through the jungle. I hear them, the birds, bugs and those monkeys. Calling me, "Katniss!" in my sister's voice, "Katniss, help me!" in Rue's voice, "What are you doing? Katniss run!" In Peeta's voice.

As I'm lowered to the ground, I can see my surroundings, and I look longingly into the blue eyes of Finnick, crouching over Peeta's limp body. He rises to ward off whatever enemy is approaching but I beg him not to go. Madge runs into the mist, and Finnick dives in after her. I yell for him, then I'm knocked hard on the head. Everything goes dark, and the fear in me grows. My heart is racing. When I open my eyes, I'm in a cold dark and damp room. Someone is huddled in the corner. The door opens and the Peacekeepers hurry in, but they pass by me and head straight for the girl. She screams, and when they lift her head from a bucket of water, her blood-shot eyes are filled with horror. I scramble to my feet and knock the guards down, and we all tumble. Next thing I feel is an arm over my neck, and the flesh of my arm ripped open. Water from the girl's hair drips on my face. Her eyes pierce into mine, and I can't break free. I only manage to yell from the top of my lungs.

I hear a loud slap, and I'm awakened, staring at the ceiling of Peeta's room. The girl in my dream reappears above me. I try to break free, but it's Johanna who holds me still, until I'm no longer disoriented. My clothes are sticking to my skin, my right cheek stings, and I can't catch my breath with her straddling over me.

"Get off me!" I yell.

"Promise not to hit?" she asks, and reeks like Haymitch. I push her off me, and she laughs.

"Is this a normal nightly thing? You screaming for the whole District 12 to hear?" Johanna asks, and adds cautiously, "Nothing spooks me much, but you had me going. I thought it would never end."

"Must be from the heat today. They would never last that long," I admitted. But what I can't share is the unique method that Peeta does in cutting my nightmares short. My lips are trembling, still searching for his.

"You want to talk about it?" Johanna asks.

"Why do people think that talking about nightmares help?" I ask, annoyed. "I'm fine Johanna go back to bed."

"You yelled for Finnick," Johanna points out.

I get up, taking off my soaked shirt, and pull out from Peeta's drawer a dry one. I look back at Johanna, and decide to share, this time, with her what I've kept trapped in my guilty conscience.

"I'm afraid to see Annie and Finnick's child when I return to District 4. I didn't know that being restricted to District 12 did more service to me than it did for the people of Panem. It protected me from the world. I didn't have to face the aftermath of the rebellion. Now, I don't have a choice, but to leave and put on more pretenses and face more ghosts. You're right, you know. It doesn't end."

She hands me a glass of white liquor, believing it will calm my nerves. I take it to appease her, and when she leaves the room, I set it back down, and change into my hunting clothes. I'm more convinced that I need Peeta there to help me see things his way. To look at the aftermath, accept it, improve the situation and move on with life. I must find him.

The sun creeps into the kitchen where I'm trying to quietly pack a few food supplies. I'm out the door. After picking up a few camping items at my house, I'll be on my way to find Peeta and his group of boys.

"You have got to be kidding me?" I say, as I as I look out my kitchen window, and see a crowd converging in front of Peeta's yard. Johanna ushers them inside. I head back, to make sure they don't touch anything or worst, put up silly decorations.

I was relieved to discover that there would be no party, and the group who arrived in the morning train were members of Johanna's old prep team. Three days of Johanna's visit is all I could take. She craves for attention, and the one day I need to sneak out of here is when she wants to get her nails done and hear what the latest gossip is around the districts. I was about to make my second attempt to leave, when the doorbell rang. I opened it to find several young women of District 12 outside waiting to come in.

Sandy speaks for the group, "Good morning, Katniss. These were all the girls I could round up this morning. Johanna said it was last minute, but we couldn't refuse coming over when she said you needed to give us something before you left." I looked at the faces of all the girls, and realized my confusion was starting to make them uncomfortable, so I plastered on a quick smile, and their face lit up in response to it.

"Come on in," I say, putting the plastered smile to work as they filed in.

Sandy stopped to add, "Thank you for doing this. We've all been a little miserable since the boys left."

Now I had to stick around. When I gave her the go ahead to beautify the town, Johanna really went full force and turned her attention to the women of Distrtict 12, who, she whispered into my ear, are in dire need of it. She told everyone it was my idea. The prep team wanted to get started right away, but the girls were hesitant. So I volunteered, for two reasons. To show the young women the prep team can be trusted, and to finish first so I could excuse myself afterwards.

It was off to a rough start for me. My cheek was still tender, and I figured Johanna had slapped me out of my nightmare. I also started thinking of my prep team, and battled tears from spilling into my face as I wondered how they were faring in this new world being so clueless in the old one. What hit me was remembering how they began to feel for Peeta and I, emotionally breaking down as they adorned us for our impending death.

Once the powder was compacted on my face, I was able to ease into my chair. Johanna and I were both done at the same time, nails, hair and face. The prep team also brought the latest fashion outfits, and had us put it on. We modeled the different styles and shoes for the girls as they were being worked on. The room was bright with made-up girls and laughter. Clothes were strewn all over the place, until each girl found one to their liking and followed us in making poses in front of each other. A photographer ushered us around Peeta's house to pose for the camera, and ended the session with all of us in the backyard. The natural brilliance of the morning light perfectly exposed the youthful vibrant glow these young women would get to see themselves, having forever, in photographs. That was what Johanna said I wanted to give them. Johanna's prep team did an excellent job, in enhancing everyone's features, staying away from the gawky make-up colors popular in the Capitol.

My self-imposing guest, Johanna, had this day all planned out. A spread of finger foods, pastries and tea was laid out for us, as we entered the house. Members of the prep team started to teach those interested, styling techniques and trade beauty secrets, and handed everyone a gift bag full of cosmetics.

Battling within me, was a sadness, with the girl-bonding occasion coming to an end. By that time it was late afternoon.

Before Sandy makes her way out, she shares with us, "We may have a beauty salon started up in Town before the boys get back. This makes looking forward to their return, more exciting. Thank you so much! Katniss, and Johanna."

"I have to be honest with all of you. It was Johanna's idea. Having an outside look sometimes can show us what we never knew we were missing." I say as Johanna nudges me, and I elbow her back.

As we hug and kiss each girl as they exit the house, I pictured each one from this morning, looking vastly different, an believably beautiful. It was inspiring to show these girls that can change can happen in all forms, and you don't have to be a Victor to make it happen. But it helps to have the winnnings of a Victor to pay for all of this. After the last guest is gone, Johanna falls back into the couch, the light material of her dress follows shortly, fluttering over her lap.

She stretches and says, "You put up a good show. I think you're cut out for this—being an excellent hostess. You knew there was a duty to perform even though you wanted to be somewhere else."

I slip out of my dress in front of her, after spotting my hunting clothes strewn on the couch. I was amazed with myself that I really did lose track of time. I slump back into the couch next to her. "It's too late to leave at this hour to look for the boys. It hasn't rained, so there's a good chance I can still find their tracks. Maybe I'll try tomorrow."

"Katniss! We leave in two days. You'll never make it back!" Johanna protests.

"Let's pay for a hovercraft. We'll locate them in no time," I insist.

"Leave it alone! Peeta is living life, the way young men are supposed to, hanging out with their buddies, exploring, doing man things out there. And we're supposed to be doing what young women are supposed to do. I've been trying to show you that, and you can't tell me you didn't have fun today."

"I know Peeta. He'll want to be there. If it's important to me.."

Something in my throat catches. I can't say more or Johanna will get the satisfaction of seeing me breakdown into a sniveling little weakling. That would definitely be the highlight of her visit here. Instead, I start cleaning up the mess.

Her tone softens, "You think Peeta will ever live down being dragged away by his girlfriend? What are his friends going to think? You might as well take away his manhood."

"I never thought of it that way," I admit, but it didn't lessen the pain, or the constricting in my heart. I really miss him. I caught myself clutching my chest, as Johanna draped her arm over me, making an effort to console me,

"Look, it's going to be a boring old ceremony any way. The highlight of the trip will probably be seeing your mother again. Legend has it that District 4 is known to produce the most handsome men in all the districts. Think of all the attention we'd get by being famous!. And! And being—single!"

I laugh along with her. I am entertained by the thought of seeing anyone who could match the perfect physical dimensions of Finnick Odair. I join in, shouting, "And all the fish we can eat!"

"You need to get out more, Everdeen," Johanna sighs and gets up from the couch for the guest room. My visitor after three days, is finally exhausted.


	6. Oath

6 Oath

Peeta's house was a mess. It looked like a good time to do some deep cleaning since I also needed to clear my mind after Johanna brought some things to light. I really hate it when Johanna is right and rational. That really scares me, but on the same token, it gives me hope that victors like her, Peeta and I will make a full recovery someday.

What crept into my mind was the second time Peeta proposed to me. He was a little bolder about it, which was probably the reason why it ended badly. It happened a month after our first time in the forest. He asked me to come over to his house one night. When I entered, the fireplace was on and before it, there on the coffee table was a loaf of bread. I had never seen the type of loaf before, but I knew at that moment what it was for. He sat me down beside him, yet, he had this far away look. It scared me.

"Peeta, what is it? Is something wrong?" I ask.

Still looking into the fire, he begins to say, "I can't go on like this. What we have. You've given me every part of you. But I haven't given you, everything."

"Yes, you have, Peeta!" I say, not wanting him to ask what I think he's going to ask me.

"No, I haven't. You deserve the best. This past month proves that we belong together, and that we're really in love. It's real. You told me so last night. What I'm trying to say is Katniss, will you marry me?"

I hold his face in my hands and I smile just looking into his eyes. "Peeta, we don't have to rush into things."

He pulls away from my hands, stands and walks over to the fire place. He shifts his weight from one leg to the other as he listens to me explain.

"I told you the idea of marriage scares me. I love you, Peeta. I told you I'm yours and I meant it. Can't that be enough for now?"

He turns to me and gives me this look that animals give me after I've shot them with my arrow, and replies, "For now? Is it because I'll never be a complete man to you?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, confused.

"While you're stuck here in 12, I'm all you've got. So, for now! You're willing to have a man who goes in and out of his mind and who will never have a whole leg again!"

"That's not true! How can you say that!" His words struck me to the core so hard, my voice cracked as I struggled to get the words out. That I want to take what I said back, that I ever made him feel that way. But he walked out of the room, and locked himself in his bedroom.

I cried to my mother that night, on the phone. I explained to her what happened between Peeta and I, and for the first time, I felt my mother, react like a mother. She supported me in my decision to wait, agreeing we were both still young. Then she did the unexpected. She called Peeta up and told him to respect her wishes about giving us more time before making the biggest decision ever in both our lives. He knocked on my door that same night, and told me that he got an earful from my mother.

"She doesn't like me much, huh? Peeta determines after telling me he was sorry. Because I meant it when I said that I was his, I packed some clothes and spent the night over at his place, and every night since.

So tonight, after picking up around the house, I call my mother to tell her the news about my restriction being lifted only to attend the ceremonies. She cries, professing how badly she wants to see how much I've grown, and apologizes for being too busy to return to District 12 for a visit. I ask her if there is anything she would like me to bring from home. After a long pause she asked me to bring Prim's hair ribbons, and some plants from the forest. I knew she wanted more so I offered to bring more of Prim's belongings.

"No, Katniss. It's okay. But there is one thing I don't think you'll have a hard time letting go of. So if it isn't too much trouble, can you bring along with you, Buttercup?"

"Ugh! Mom? What do you want with that old cat?"

"There's another cat here, I'd like Buttercup to meet," she says, and we both laugh.

I hear a voice coming from the dark hallway. It's Johanna, squinting her eyes, and stammering my way half awake.

"You having a nightmare?" she asks, standing in front of me, trying to shake off the drowsy.

I say goodbye to my mother and before I hang up, Johanna suddenly is alert and grabs the phone.

"Hi Mrs. Everdeen. It's me Johanna…" She starts talking to my mom like they're old friends. "I'm fine. I can't wait to see you again. I've missed you."

After hearing that, I try to grab the phone, but it doesn't budge from her ear. "I will. Good night, Mrs. Everdeen. Oh, and Katniss says goodbye."

Then she hangs it up. I stare at her for a while, and when she senses what I'm doing she says, "What? She said she had to go."

We sat up talking all night about things to do in District 4 and reminisced on memories we made together, starting with the Hunger Games, and the celebrations before the Quarter Quell. Coming face to face with formidable foes, everyone put up a front. Her aim was to shock me into a stupor with her stripping stunt. I told her it only made Peeta laugh at me.

"Who knew that there was an underbelly in the Capitol that would unleash the poison from inside," Johanna described the rebellion. She explained to me how she became involved. "Plutarch guaranteed my survival in the arena, if I did everything they said to keep you alive. You were first on my hunting list to kill, you know?" That night before the Quell, I was sold to the highest bidder. The Gamemaker, himself. While delivering to me President Snow's orders, to befriend you and kill you once I gained your trust, he showed me the mockingjay watch. They tried to talk me into it earlier that evening, but I didn't believe we would succeed, until that moment. I didn't know how high up the rebellion plot got in the Capitol."

"Plutarch of all people," I say.

"Higher than that. Someone in the President's palace let the rescue team through and helped Peeta and I escape," Johanna explained.

"Wow, I don't think Peeta has any memory of that because of the torture," I say, curious to hear about the mission those men accomplished just so the mockingjay can go on.

"He wasn't tortured, Katniss," Johanna says, which baffles me. I ask, if she was sure. And she was sure of it.

"I should know. I was there. They just made it look like he was," she simply says. This is news to me. This would shock anyone who saw Peeta on TV, and when he first arrived in District 13. I'm dying to hear her story, but making a rare appearance at the glass windows was no other than Buttercup, lifting up a paw. Johanna immediately runs to tend to him, checking on it. I wasn't able to ask, as Buttercup hissed every time I would come near them.

The next day, I let Johanna sleep in so I could find the plants my mother wanted me to bring along. When I returned, I called to tell her that I found all the plants she had asked.

"Did Dr. Aurelias speak to you? Recently? My mother asks.

I say that I did call but I've been out tending to Johanna. My mother pauses again, and tells me quickly,

"Katniss, whatever you do, do not ask her to recall anything about her torture. She underwent treatment in District 13. She voluntarily took doses of the tracker jacker venom. What doctors wanted to achieve was to replace bad memories with good ones, by introducing a good memory with a dose of the venom. Johanna is one of the successful cases, but..."

"Can it help Peeta?" I ask, excited to hear this breakthrough.

"It may not be advisable. There are problems that weren't foreseen in the initial stage of the experiment."

"Like what?" I ask.

"Look what the cat dragged in?" came Johanna's voice from behind me. She's petting Buttercup with her hands. Looks like they both fell asleep together.

"I'll tell you when you get here, Katniss. Promise not to forget. Don't say a word," my mother says an urgent tone.

_In the next chapter, they will head off to District 4 where fun, trouble and romance awaits them. Please review. Thank you!_


	7. Just A Kiss

_**This chapter has a fight scene, girl talk scene and two flashback scenes. One, into Katniss memories of her and Peeta's first real kiss. Guess which scene is it? Read on and she'll tell you. The second flashback is Johanna's memories of those she loved…Please review. **_

7 Just A Kiss

"_So what was it like?" Johanna asked me about the first time I had to pretend kiss Peeta. _

We had been on the train for only three hours, bound for District 4, when she asked me. Haymitch of course had to tag along as part of the details of my unique sentence arrangement. I was spared imprisonment on a few extenuating technicalities. First, is obviously because of being the mockingjay, and in action performing the duties of a soldier—killing and almost being killed. Then they resorted to having me institutionalized, based on Dr. Aurelias' highly regarded expert opinion that I experienced diminished mental capacity due to the tragic loss of my sibling, and that nearly most of my flesh had been singed. Haymitch knew there was no way the mockingjay would survive being cooped up behind bars or padded walls, and pleaded with the court to live out my fifteen year, minimum sentence in the far away reaches of society—District 12.

Yes, it would be a long ride to District 4. Both Johanna and Haymitch, didn't waste any time refreshing themselves with refreshments at the bar. Johanna made it back to me, swinging from pole to pole, struggling to stay balanced, even though it was a completely smooth train ride. She explained that she was excited at the prospect of us mingling with other young people our age, encouraging me to have a fling or two.

"Johanna. I am happier than I've ever been. And I owe it all to Peeta," I explain.

"Katniss, It's okay! People will understand. You don't have to keep putting on a show, or feel guilty about what happened to Peeta," Johanna says with heavy eyelids.

"It isn't guilt that I feel. It's gratitude, and it's, it's more than that," I say, readying to excuse myself.

"Whatever. I think you can do better. You are the mockingjay for crying out loud. You can have anyone you want," she says.

"No one understands me and my, my fears," I say trying to maintain my calm. I almost lose it, my tears brimming around the lids, when those very words remind me of how incomplete I feel without Peeta. It's been an excruciating five days without him. But I decide not to let an inebriated person get to me.

"For the first time in seventy-seven years, the people of Panem can actually start enjoying life. Live a little. You'll never know what you missed. If Peeta really cares about you, he'll want you to do this. He'll take you back no matter what, " Johanna slurs as she gives me profound advice.

I'm beginning to grow impatient, fidgeting in my seat. "I'm unavailable and that's it!"

She stands, and wobbles in front of me and says, "You are so boring! You say Peeta makes you happy, you haven't had anything real to compare it to!"

"Why should I listen to a drunk?" I spat back. "You obviously are not happy and you're not going to find it looking like that."

"What?" Now her eyes were wide open, and the whites bulging out of its sockets. "After all I've done! You can say that to me?"

She lunges for me, and starts to tear at my dress.

With clenched teeth, I tell her, "You don't know anything about me, or Peeta!"

We roll to the floor, screeching, yelping, scratching, and pulling hair.

I plant my foot on her tummy and with one swift kick, I send her flying back towards Haymitch, who was making his way over the same way Johanna did earlier. They both crash against a cart of food. Johanna still has a piece of my dress clutched in her fist, while her free hand sinks into a cake with white frosting. Haymitch has sauce spilled all over his shirt and vest, while trying to avoid ruining a perfectly arranged rack of lamb. They both slide to the floor, following the cart when it tips over.

I'm looking at the mirror behind the overturned cart of food and see a reflection of the only thing that's keeping my dress up—a single frayed shoulder strap. I see a few hairline welts of scratches on my neck and cheek, thanks to a now demolished manicure. I see a few long ones on Johanna's arm, the same one clutching a swatch of my dress. Johanna and I both turn our attention to Haymitch who has the plate of lamb chops cradled in his bossom. Her body begins to convulse, and it becomes apparent to me that she is laughing, still laying down with her head propped up by the cart's wheels. Haymitch starts laughing too. They turn to see whether I'd forget about the little catfight and laugh along with them, but I walk away instead, and into my room.

Within seconds, Johanna is banging on my door. I really want to ignore it, but every second that passes, I have a growing discomfort of what the train workers will make of this. That the Hunger Games victors have finally shed their masks becoming muttations, ready to tear society apart once the train doors open. They might just turn this train around back to District 12, and add more years to my sentence. Or worst! Sentence Johanna to District 12 too.

I open the door and when I pull her in, I shove her to my bed. This time I straddle on top of her, burrow my forearm on her neck, and give her a few ground rules.

"Let's make one thing clear. We are no longer friends. When we step out of the train at 4, we will part ways, and you stay away from me. You got that?"

"I'm sorry," she manages to squeeze out. I push off to leave the room but then I hear whimpering. It's actually coming from Johanna. I'm stumped and softened when I remember that's how Prim cried. She was such a fragile little thing, and it hits me right then and there, that Johanna was once that way.

I sit beside her as she sniffles and ask in a whisper, "Ever had a little sister?"

She doesn't answer, but I continue to talk feeling that it's safe and good for me to finally get this out in the open. "When you have one, all you want to do is make sure nothing can harm her. And when she's in pain, you feel it twice as worst as she does. And you do everything you can to make sure she grows up without a scar on her, that she's fed before you are. You make her feel safe and to look at life with a smile."

There are tears rolling down my face, but it feels so good to remember her that way.

The sound of Johanna's voice is childlike again. She says shakily, "I had a big sister."

I turned to listen when she didn't budge. She just stared straight at the window, her voice muffled by the sheets scrunched up against her cheeks.

"She didn't feel that way about me."

I look down at her, and she also feels that it is safe to get it out in the open. "I think she didn't know what to do with me. Our parents were always working at the mill, so I followed her wherever she would go. She hated it. She was older than me like you and Prim…..."

Just to hear someone say her name sends a pang of yearning in my heart.

"She's one for keeping promises, I'll tell ya. If she ever caught me following her around, she was good on her word on giving me a good beat down. Her friends roughed me up too. The funny thing is that didn't stop me. I learned quickly how to make them stop. I would pretend to be in more pain than I actually was, and one day the act stuck. I was known as the scared little sister. Yup, picked on and teased. That is until…."

"Winning the Hunger Games," I concluded.

"No, the day of the reaping," she says and turns to me, staring into my eyes. But I could tell she was looking into the past.

"As my parents got my brother and I ready for the reaping, the peacekeepers came to question my sister. They started beating her…" Johanna's voice breaks , but she continues. I rub her hand that's still clutching a piece of my dress. "…I knew what she was doing was dangerous. Nothing like hunting, though, but it helped put food on the table. But she wouldn't give up their names. They took her away. I was picked at the reaping and they quickly dragged me into one room after another, but I saw her. On my way to the train. They put her out in the center of the square, beaten and bloody."

"What happen to her?" I ask. Now she's looking at me with steely eyes.

"I won because of her. While the careers were being trained all their lives with the best weapons, I was being trained by the best thieves. That's right. My sister and her friends taught me how to case a joint, how to spot the ideal victim, or act like a victim to pick their pockets or distract them. My mentor, an idiot, thought that as a motivational speech, he decided to inform me that my sister didn't make it the second night out in the stocks. So it would lessen the grief of my parents if I made it back home. I was sure I was going to die. The pain I felt of losing my sister was unstoppable. I cried for days, especially in the arena. They sure milked those scenes. Everyone thought I was a frightened little sissy. Then one day I snapped when I saw the careers banded together. I wanted them dead, like I wanted my sister's so-called friends dead. They didn't come forward to help her. Maybe she would still be alive if they did. Every person I killed I would imagine them."

"I'm so sorry," is all I could say.

"I'm sorry, Katniss for earlier. I guess I gave you a taste of my life back home," she says and puts in my hands, the torn off part of my strap. "You know, I do see you as a sister."

"Yeah, I see that now," I say rubbing the welts on my face. We both laugh.

"You surprised the Gamemakers, and all of Panem. Suddenly everyone was looking out for you," I commended.

"Your act takes the cake though," Johanna asserts. Then that's when she asks, "So it's real, with you and Peeta? But what was it like to pretend kiss?"

I lay next to her so I could reminisce about kissing Peeta. I find myself excited about sharing this with someone else.

"Haymitch sure spent a lot of sponsor money to tell me it sucked. What can you expect? It was my first time to kiss anyone," I say.

"No way!" Johanna yells, "Come to think of it, it did look like it."

I elbow her and she urges me to continue.

"He is a really good kisser. There's something about how he does it that makes me want more," I relish.

"When did it become real?" Johanna asks.

"Hmm. I would have to say in the last arena. I didn't want to let go, but we were interrupted. I kept looking forward to feeling the way I felt that night when he kissed me. I was expecting him to run up and kiss me when he was resc—" I stopped myself, heeding my mother's advice to not mention anything related to Johanna's torture. I just say, "I mean when he came back to District 12 after everything."

"So he's the only boy you ever kissed," Johanna assumes.

"Nope, there were a few" I say. Two other guys made the attempt, but I'm debating whether I should count Chaff's as a real one.

She scoots her head over to make contact with mine, and asks. "Tell me, who?"

"I don't kiss and tell," I say, then she pokes my ribs. Other than Peeta and Prim, she is on the short list of people who know how ticklish I am.

"Alright! It was Gale. Senator Hawthorne!" I shout and giggle.

"What?" she scoffs, but then asks in a deep voice, "Was it dreamy?"

"You can say that, if you mean our minds were in two different places," I remember.

"No sparks? But he's so handsome! All the girls are dying for a chance to date him," Johanna says with dreamy eyes.

"It felt like—you know—when you taste something, and like an ingredient is missing."

"His kiss lacked flavor?" Johanna laughs, "What do you mean, like it needed more spicing up?"

We were being silly, but the tone helped the subject from becoming too technical and forward. Is this what they call _girl talk_?

I laughed as it came to me, "Maybe that's it! Peeta smelled like dill and cinnamon. I love rubbing my nose to sniff him. But that's not all. His tongue tastes so sweet and he moves it so—"

"Ugh! Okay! That's enough! It's more than I care to know," Johanna hollered, covering her ears.

I decide to tell a very romantically enthralled Johanna the first time Peeta and I kissed back in District 12. It was the night before his new bakery was to open. I had spent weeks trying to get Peeta to kiss me on the lips. At first, I would position myself close to him as we worked on the notebook. As each week progressed more parts of me made contact with his body. First my head, then my cheeks resting against his, then my hands on his chest, then they circled around his waist. He was fighting urges on his part, which he revealed to me later, not sure whether his recurring venom attacks may be triggered by heightened sensations. Then one day, he kissed my cheek as he finished reading one of my journal entries. I was bent on getting more. I did more for him. Cooked elaborate dinners, asked for long, slow walks to Town, around the meadow. I even stayed by his side until the bakery was done being built.

And on that night, it paid off. He was so excited, like a child opening up a bunch of huge presents. He was all smiles, constantly hugging me as we arranged the final fixtures of the bakery. He baked me a small chocolate cake, with real flowers decorated on it. We were done with the first slice when I looked up at him, and saw a smudge of chocolate frosting at the edge of his mouth. After wiping it off with my thumb, I unintentionally grazed his soft lips. I was lost in its softness, its warmth electrified my whole arm. He felt it too, and before I knew it his lips grazed mine, twice. He would pull away and look into my eyes, then down my lips, returning to it. It was the most luxurious flavor I have ever tasted. The sweet and richness of the chocolate still lingered on our lips, and our tongues. I only let go to catch my breath and dive back into his waiting mouth. We must've remained attached for half an hour, just kissing, making up for lost time.

Walking back to Victor's Village, hand in hand, we stole kisses after every few yards. I was sure he was going to follow me into my house, but he just kissed me, long and tenderly at my front door before bidding me good night.

"I don't want to rush tonight. Let's keep it perfect in our memories." His face muscles tensed up, eyes closed as he leans his forehead against mine to say this.

"I'll call you," I say, and we spend the whole night and morning pressed against our lifeline, the land line.

Haymitch braces himself at the door of my room, back on the train, and asks, "Are you girls going to try to not kill each other before we roll into District 4? I didn't sign up for a homicidal baby-sitting service."

"Yes, Haymitch!" we both sing out.

"Good, because you cannot leave this train until the Prep team comes and fixes your scratches and torn dresses. We don't want to give the good people of Panem any ideas that you two can't get over the fact that there aren't any more arenas. Bury the hatchet, the old folks used to say, or in your case, your claws. "

He mumbles something as he staggers away thinking we can't hear him, "Female victors—can't live with them and you can't kill'em, but they sure do try."

We both make a promise from there on to act like Everdeen sisters and no longer as Mason sisters.

Several hours later, Haymitch finally hears my screams.

He yells at me, "What are you doing to her, Katniss?"

I just remember Finnick doing the same thing to Peeta when his heart stopped. My eyes are blurred from the tears, my lips swollen from trying to blow as much air I can share into Johanna's sinking, silent chest. Still, no sound.

_**To be continued…..Next Chapter: District 4 is a hustling and bustling region that many citizens of Panem have migrated to for its beautiful ocean and abundant supply of seafood. Katniss will be up to her neck with the media, admirers, revealed secrets, and more life-changing decisions. Please review. I'm dying to know what you think. **_


	8. Heart of Gold

8 Heart of Gold

_**Okay, they are heading to District 4, but there are a few things that make this trip quite interesting on the way there. One of the passengers has a different destination than the others, and it's not Buttercup, but he does play a part in it. I know you all are anxiously waiting for Peeta to reappear. All in due time. He will appear in another chapter or two. Please review and let me know what you enjoyed or didn't.**_

I don't understand how this thing could happen when Johanna and I both talked and laughed until the wee hours of the morning. There wasn't a moment of silence between us two. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, unless you count Johanna's light laughter, and lack of mood swings to both be unusual.

We gabbed about everything from fashion horrors of the Capitol, comparing our battle scars, talking more about boys, crushes and heartbreaks, to girls we hated, envied and the losers they ended up with. The only time we paused from speaking was when the train speakers announced the district approaching, and when we left it. We napped a little as the break of dawn peeked light into the train car. Before we drifted off we heard that District 8 was just around the corner.

I wake up from a dream where my face is being pushed against a rough and coarse tree trunk—a slimy one at that. I feel my face and it is wet and suddenly I'm being hissed at. It's Buttercup with his bitten ears folded back, paws outstretched with claws sinking into the bed sheets, back arched, and hair standing so straight I could see the skin on her tail. How did he get out of his cage? I think, and he's probably sensing at the same time, that I'm going to snatch him and throw him back in. He knows me so well, and being friendly isn't going to fool him.

An arm comes from behind me. One long welt mark down to the wrist tells me it's Johanna's. Without warning, she pats Buttercup on the head and has his stance immediately transformed from attack mode to cute and cuddly mode. How Buttercup just melts in Johanna's arms is something I cannot fathom to ever understand. I can sense danger the way animals can after growing up in the woods, and I do the same thing Buttercup does with the hairs on her back every time I'm left alone with Johanna. But Buttercup doesn't feel threatened at all by her. In fact, she walks over me to get more rub downs from Johanna who is practically spooning me from behind, and under the same sheets I am in.

"I couldn't stand to see her locked up in that small cage," Johanna says as she smoothens the fur on Buttercups undulating back.

I can't make a move, concerned that it may startle Buttercup and because Johanna is making herself very comfortable draping her legs over mine. Instead, I ask, "Why didn't you take him to your bed?" You know how he feels about me. I don't need more scratches or the prep team will have their work cut out for them."

"I did! He jumped right off mine and went straight here. When he wouldn't come back to me, I stayed, figuring he was planning on attacking you, but he just watches you, while you sleep, at the foot of the bed. Like he's trying to figure you out, tilting his head and moving his ears back and forwards whenever you flinch or talk in your sleep. It was the cutest thing I've ever seen," Johanna reveals.

"So what did I say? In my sleep," I ask, keeping an eye on Buttercup, who snaps her head back at me.

"More like who you were saying it to. Gale," she said and got up from the bed with Buttercup, saying it was time to feed her.

I met them both at the table. The spread indicated that it was lunch time, and as I filled my plate I tried to get Johanna to continue, "So what did I say?"

After hand feeding Buttercup she says, "Ahh, things we say in our sleep."

"What? What?" I say, not succeeding in not sounding anxious or guilty.

She continues petting Buttercup, but has this mischievous smile on her, and says, "Seems you're taking my advice into consideration. In your dreams, at least. It's a start."

"About what? What advice have you given me?" I ask, practically stabbing my food with my fork, annoyed with myself for walking again and again into Johanna's mind games.

"About opening yourself to more options," she says, mimicking the satisfied look on Buttercup's face, slanted eyes and tongue peeking out.

"For your information, I was dreaming about the past, hunting in the woods again," I say, but Johanna nodded unconvinced.

"Run away with me, that's what you said," Johanna recalled with an exaggerated feminine accent, "Gale, if I asked you to run away with me, would you?" then laughed. Buttercup scrambles out of her clutch.

It was my turn to have the last laugh, "I did say that to him before the Quarter Quell, and I asked Peeta the same thing. Who do you think went for it?"

The stunned look on her face was priceless. I continued to eat, my eyebrows arched high saying, that's right! Who do you think _manned up_? That's right, Peeta!

"Wow! You played them both! And you chose the one who bought into it. You're so easy!" Johanna accused, and started to go into hysterical laughter.

"Why can't you give Peeta any credit?" I ask standing up. She stops in the middle of her fit, and looks at the seriousness in my eyes.

"It's not Peeta. I don't really know much about him. Well, I do now, after this visit. It's you, Katniss! You don't give yourself any credit at all. And seeing it happen to me in the past, I don't want the same thing to happen to you."

"What happened?" I asked sitting back down. I wanted to know what gives Johanna the right to give me relationship advice.

"I fell too fast, for one thing, and I didn't know how to get over it," Johanna says in a whisper. She starts to explain as she puts small amounts of food on her plate.

"We were both just kids when we met, at the Capitol of all places. He was so smart and popular. Everyone, old and young sought him out, but every time I would visit the city, he'd seek me out, and take me away for a while. He knew all the secret hiding places. We fell in love as much as I was advised by the other mentors not to further it. He was from the Capitol, and even though I was a victor, famous and celebrated, I was still a lower class human being. The match would not only put me back under President Snow's suspicious eye, but it would also end my true love's chances of being the Head Gamemaker, every Capitol boy's dream job."

"Seneca Crane?" I yelled, almost choking on my lemonade.

_Johanna pours her heart out, "If I had only listened to everyone else, I wouldn't have spent years harming myself, just so I wouldn't feel the pain in my heart of waiting, of watching him play his part, as the Head Gamemaker, as a single, available man. My innocence was already taken away by the hands of the President of Panem, but a boy from the Capitol had this heart of gold, and gave it back to me. There was something good and real that actually came from that place. He promised we'd be together. He had a plan. He was part of this budding group of rebels, and promised that after the revolt, we'd be together again. I didn't take him seriously at that time, because it wasn't news. There was always talk of rebellion, but just as quickly as it was whispered, it was squashed with the swift tongue-chopping action of the Peacekeepers. After a few years, the job got to his head and we drifted apart. _

_A young handsome man, a few years older than me, caught my eye back in 7. He felt compassion towards me, but that's as far as it went if I remained hooked on morphling. Then, it was back to the Capitol for the 72nd Hunger Games, where Seneca and I meet again. I never noticed what state I was in until I saw the sadness in his eyes. He showed me something that gave me reason to continue holding on—wrapped around the left side of his front and back rib area was a spiraling tattoo of a tree with only one fruit, in the shape of a heart, hanging from the center branch. The fruit was right on his left chest. He had it done to show me that no matter how things may look on the outside, it will never change how he feels about me, in the inside. I looked like I was withering away, but he knew I was holding on for dear life on the inside. He was such a romantic. Look what rule he came up with, in your first arena._

_Anyway, I owed Seneca so much because it was him who saved me, the first time, and every time I would slip, he'd be there to catch me, and tell me to hang on—every year, once a year. I wasn't good at hanging on, but I did. I didn't get better on my own. The guy back in 7 helped me get some semblance of reality back in my life. I owed him too. Feeling loved—everyday—by this mill worker was such a wonderful yet foreign feeling. I couldn't understand why I still wanted it to come from Seneca, and still wanted to wait."_

Just then, Haymitch, who has been lying on the couch this whole time watching the television yells for us to come over, "Come on over girls, they're about to tell us who else will be joining us for the opening ceremony. Looks like anyone who is anyone wants a piece of the spotlight."

They mention the names of district mayors, of surviving victors, their spouses and children, and a few people from the Capitol. The television flashed photo images of them all, but was muted when the train announcement came on that District 7 was approaching. Johanna ran to look out the window, and that's when she became frantic.

She started feeling all around herself, like she had an itch everywhere. She pushed plates on the table aside, then started to gag and gasp for air, "Help me find it."

"Find what?" I asked, walking towards her, but she bolts for the bedroom.

By the time I get there, the sheets are off the bed. She has one hand feeling underneath the bed and the other clutching her neck, her gasping, louder. When she turns to me she is pale white except for the blue and pink lines that are streaking around the edges of her face.

"Johanna!" I run over to her and grab her. Under my hold, I feel her body stiffening. She is trying to say something.

Then suddenly, she goes limp. I ease her down on the floor, but something is wrong. She isn't breathing. I rest my ear on her chest and there is no heart beat. I yell for Haymitch, and for the first time, I hear how loud the television is, still talking about the eagerly awaited event at District 4. Then I think, this would put a damper on things, especially if Johanna is found dead at the hands of—me—the one they sentenced, rightfully so. Wouldn't this look like a crime? The first time they let me out and someone ends up dead. No! Johanna is not going to die. I have to do something. I remember vaguely, what Finnick did to Peeta. So I start doing it on her. I blow on her mouth and I see her chest rising. I put my fists over her chest and I push down a few times. I go back to her mouth, and when I see her chest rise again, I go back to her chest, and I begin to realize, what I'm trying to do is pump her heart. I yell for Haymitch over and over again. Then I press my ear to her chest. Still no sound. I repeat everything faster and faster. In the middle of this chaotic scramble to save her life, I feel two eyes have been watching me. When I turned my head to listen to her chest, I find Buttercup just watching, looking at Johanna and me with curious cat eyes. The same look she had before attacking the beam of light back at District 13. My eyes fill with tears, remembering every tribute that have died before my eyes, remembering seeing the tape where Johanna is crowned a victor, President Coin falling to the ground with my single arrow pierced through her. I ended the games, and people are still dropping like flies around me. Johanna never finished her story. She has to.

I keep trying. Haymitch is at the door, yelling, then he's there, beside me. I'm pushed aside as he starts pumping her chest. He tells me to blow, to keep blowing! We must have tried this for a while because I see droplets of sweat fall from Haymitch's forehead onto Johanna's chest. I take a look at her face, the blue and pink veins are gone, but her lips have long lost its color. Haymitch's arms start to tremble, he's getting winded, but his blood-shot red eyes tell me his mind is thinking about the same things I was. About how bad this will look for me. She feels cold, and Haymitch gives up when her rib muscles begin to stiffen.

We lost her.

Even Buttercup can sense it, making sad sounds with her meows.

She comes close to the body, sniffing it, backing up, then returning to sniff some more.

As if kissing Johanna goodbye, Buttercup licks her lips.

Haymitch finds a wall to lean against. I've never seen him this rattled. But there is a pain in my heart that I'm starting to feel more often than any other that hits me when it comes to those I love and have lost.

I crawl to Haymitch and curl under his chin to cry, while he continues to mumble, "This can't be. Not her, not now. What happened?"

I answer between sobs, "I don't know…we were watching the TV….she looked out the window….and ran to…..the room. Sh, she couldn't breathe."

"She looked out the window?" Haymitch asks, and jumps to his feet to look out. I follow him, we see nothing but trees.

"We should leave her here in 7. When they do a fuel stop, we'll open the back door and bury her body in the forest, and we'll tell everyone she, she…." was Haymitch's plan until I emphatically objected.

"We didn't do anything wrong! We don't need to cover this up!" I protest.

"Then how will you explain, the scratches and bruises you two just inflicted on each other? You think they're not going to suspect you two had a fight?" He yells, squeezing my cheeks to remind me about the scratches on my face and the long one on Johanna's arm.

"I'll say, it came from Buttercup," I reply weakly, looking at the thick scratch my acrylic nail crafted on Johanna's lifeless arm.

"We have to think quick, and agree. But let me spell it out for you sweetheart. This will change everything for you. You may get a stiffer sentence. This is a victor who just died in in the same room as you. They may find you beyond control and lock you up and you may never see your mother and Peeta again. You may be executed for this."

"I don't care, anymore. I'll take my chances. If Peeta were here…." I say, but Haymitch interrupts.

"He'd protect you, and I would do everything to protect you!"

"The body stays here!" I command, "In District 7. I'll stay to make sure all the arrangements are made to give her the proper burial she deserves."

Haymitch knows of all people that I have a heavy load of carrying the dead on my shoulders, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I proceeded with his self-preservation plan. He paces back and forth, starts to explain his point, but stops when he sees my resolve. Before, he makes his way out of the room, he points at me and says,

"Today, it's two victors that we're burying here."

"Who died?" A voice asks. Haymitch spins around and his eyes dart to the body on the floor. The color has come back on her lips, but she is still pretty pale. Am I hearing things? I feel lifted, so light, I can't feel my legs. The room is spinning and losing light. But before everything goes dark, I see Johanna's eyes, blinking.

_**To be continued….This will be explained shortly in the next chapter. Any ideas as to what may be going on?**_


End file.
